


There You'll Always Be

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 04:56:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11284161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms





	There You'll Always Be

 

_ In my heart there is a memory, and there you’ll always be. _

* * *

_ You can never be sure if this time will be the last time - the last time you smell her hair, the last time you see her smile, the last time you feel her touch, the last time you get to kiss her. If Sam had known that the last time he saw Eileen would be the ***last time*** he saw her, he would have told her everything. _

_ Everything. _

* * *

Dean kept teasing him, good-natured teasing, the “older brother thinks it’s cute you’ve got a crush on her” kind of teasing that legitimately made Sam blush. Of course, he gave it back tenfold when it came to Dean’s feelings for a certain sheriff in Minnesota, the two of them shooting barbs back and forth until they were both breaking down in fits of laughter. It had meant to a lot to him though when Dean had clapped him on the shoulder and muttered “she’s good people, Sammy,” before pulling a beer from the fridge and leaving him to practice.

He’d taken some American Sign Language classes in college, what felt like a million years ago, but he only remembered the basics like ‘please’ and ‘thank you,’ the stuff everyone knew. He wanted to learn more, wanted to be able to actually talk to Eileen, so he’d found a website to help him. God knew, when he set his mind to something, he gnawed at it like a dog with a bone, until he’d figured it out or perfected it. Learning sign language wasn’t any different.

He got nervous every time he Skyped with her, sure he was going to make an idiot of himself in front of her. He wanted it to be perfect, wanted to make sure he wasn’t telling her to go jump off of a cliff or something like that. Eileen was infinitely patient with him, correcting his mistakes with a gentle smile on her face, giggling when he really messed something up. He appreciated her patience.

They’d been talking steadily for a couple of months when Eileen suggested they get together for coffee, maybe even dinner. Sam had agreed, so quickly he was afraid he’d come across as too eager. He was grateful she’d been the one to ask, he’d been worried that if he did it, she’d think he was looking for some quick hook-up or something. That was certainly not his intention.

He’d had to borrow the Impala from Dean, enduring several minutes of good-natured teasing and his stupid older brother shoving condoms in his duffel, despite his protests.

“Just in case,” Dean had chuckled, winking.

* * *

_ When Jody said her name, he flinched and for a second, he forgot how to breathe, how to draw in a breath and let it out, expanding his lungs until they were full, then releasing the air. He heard Jody talking, heard the words coming from her, heard himself responding, but it was all happening in a vacuum of sound and air. _

_ “Thanks for letting me know. Bye.” Sam disconnected call, his eyes on the floor, like maybe she’d somehow appear in front of him.  _

_ “Who?” Dean asked. _

_ “Eileen,” Sam answered. _

_ “How?” _

_ Somehow, he answered his brother, somehow he told him what Jody had said. He could feel the tears threatening, could feel that familiar tightening in his chest, the ache in the center of his head, the tremble in his fingers that came every time he lost someone he cared about, someone he loved. It was all too familiar. _

_ It's always the people he loves that get hurt. First it was Mom, then Jess. Dad. Madison. Dean followed suit later. Ellen, Jo, Bobby, Kevin, Charlie; anyone and everyone in between that he let himself get emotionally attached to in one way or another. It was like the universe was conspiring against him to take everyone away from him. _

_ Now, it was Eileen. _

* * *

Sam met Eileen just west of Kansas City, a couple hours south of Lebanon at a hole in the wall restaurant just off the highway that he and Dean had eaten at quite a few times. It looked like nothing, but they had amazing food.

Four cups of coffee later, Sam’s knee was bouncing, his fingers tapping on the table, and Eileen looked like she might bolt for the door. He was royally screwing this up.

“You okay, Sam?” she signed.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied, clearing his throat. “I’m, uh, I’m good.”

Eileen reached across the table and grabbed his tapping fingers. “Even though I can’t hear that, it’s still driving me crazy” she said.

Sam shook his head and laughed. “Sorry. You want to get out of here, maybe go for a walk?”

“You could walk me back to the motel,” she shrugged. “If you want?”

Sam nodded and pushed himself out of the booth. He dropped some money to the table and gestured for Eileen to go out ahead of him. She waited for him at the door, linked her arm with his as they walked down the street, the two of them comfortable in their silence.

They stopped outside the door to her room, Eileen leaning against it, Sam fidgeting, staring at a spot just over her shoulder. There had to be something he could say, something he could do, to stretch the evening out longer. He was so lost in his thoughts that Eileen had to snap her fingers in Sam’s face until he looked at her. As soon as his eyes settled on her face, on the warm brown of her eyes, his decision was made. He took a step forward, cupped her face in his hands, caught her lips in his, and kissed her.

When they finally broke apart, her arms around his waist, his body flush against hers pressing her into the door, they were both panting and Eileen was smiling up at him. 

“I was wondering if you were going to do that,” she laughed.

“I’m glad you said that,” Sam chuckled. “I was afraid you’d punch me.”

Eileen laughed, tucked her hair behind her ear, and pulled the key to her room from her pocket. “Why don’t you come in?” she grinned.

* * *

_ Sam drew in a deep breath and swallowed. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop staring at the length of her neck, a neck he’d kissed, now marred by deep bruising and cuts. Or the curve of her jaw - she was ticklish, right there beneath her chin, a little to the left of her throat. He reached out and ran a finger down the length of her arm, remembering how soft and warm she’d been. _

_ “People who do what we do, you know there are gonna be deaths, but...this…” He gnawed on his lower lip, trying to hold in his need to scream, to yell out his pain, to flip the table and watch the instruments tumble to the ground. _

_ “Why did she leave Ireland?” Dean asked. _

_ “I don’t know, Dean…”  _

_ He could hear it in his voice, the pain, the exasperation, the loss. Every word that followed felt like it was thick, stuck in his throat, blocked by layers of emotion, forced out by sheer will. It was all churning inside of him, everything, all of it, waiting to explode. _

_ “I-I…” Sam exhaled, the sound sharp and biting. “I wanna punch something in the face.” _

_ “Good,” Dean said. “Hold on to that.” _

* * *

They were sitting cross-legged on the bed, facing each other, the sheet wrapped around Eileen’s torso, Sam in his boxer briefs. It was the first time they’d come up for air in three days, their need for each other almost desperate.

“I don’t want you to go,” Sam shook his head, his hair falling in his face. “You should stay with me, come back to the bunker. I can protect you -”

“If you’re the one protecting me… Then who’s the one protecting  _ you _ ?” Her hands were flying, moving so fast Sam could barely make out what she was saying. 

He reached out, wrapped his huge hands around her waist and pulled her into his lap. She collapsed against him, her face buried against the side of his neck, her breathing fast and erratic, her tears falling on his shoulder.

“I will protect you. Always.” he murmured against her hair. Sam knew she couldn’t hear him, wasn’t sure he wanted her to. The words were for him.  

He knew how hard it had been for her since she’d shot that British kid, how much she’d struggled with what had happened, with her guilt. He wished he could take that all away from her, carry that burden for himself. For now he’d just have to try and comfort her as best he could.  

He lowered her to the bed, intent on making her forget everything that had happened, if only for a little while. He needed his fill of her before she was gone.

* * *

_ “She left Ireland because she was scared.” _

_ Dean’s words echoed in his head. She was scared. Scared enough to ask if she could come and stay with them while she “sorted things out.” Scared enough to reach out for help. _

_ He stared out the window, watching the houses flash by as Dean drove back to the bunker. His heart was pounding, tears sliding down his face, his hands shaking.  _

_ He’d failed her. Failed her when she’d needed him most. _

_ “I will protect you. Always.” _

_ He was a liar. _

 


End file.
